A place for family and friends to see what I'm up to. Visitors welcome here.

Hail Guest, we ask not what thou art.
If Friend, we greet thee, hand and heart.
If Stranger, such no longer be.
If Foe, our love will conquer thee.
-Old Welsh Door Verse

Sunday, February 03, 2008

Super Bore Sunday

At the risk of being called un-American, I will admit here that I despise football. My bigotry began in high school. I performed in what was then called an "attached unit" with the HS marching band. Every other Saturday each fall, we competed in a "band review" which meant spending the entire day getting ready to travel to another SoCA town, marching up to five miles, then waiting around until late evening for awards, arriving back at the high school around midnight to unload the buses and equipment vans. We practiced for these events in last period band supplemented by an hour after school every day.

In addition to this commitment, during the football season we were expected to support our school by performing a new, 12-minute halftime show every other Friday. The band was expected to play during the entire game (but not so loud as to make it impossible for the team to hear the signals) and we "attached unit" performers were expected to be the cheering section. In order to prepare for these halftime shows, we practiced our street routines for band class and the hour after school then, as soon as the football team left the field (to shower and go home), we could take the field to practice our show. On the night of the show we would leave the stands in time to be lined up off the field as the timer went off at the end of the first half. We would immediately take the field for our 12-minute show so that we would be off the field when the team returned for their two-minute warm-up before the second half.

Game after game, though, the team came out at 11.5 minutes, not twelve, and these drooling idiots thought it incredibly funny to run through our finale. Our director finally threatened to just not show up (something the coaches begged him not to do because, frankly, without the band section there, our school's crappy team would have been left with only their parents to cheer.) But, the coaches were bigger jerks than their players and there was really never any change.

DH (who played football through high school and at UCLA for a while in the late 1950s) agreed with me that our sons would not be allowed to play football. Period. (DH calls the game "painball" because of the aches he still suffers due to those hits in the 50s). They played baseball and basketball, and DS2 lettered in varsity volleyball in high school. Both boys say to this day, though, that they never understood what true teamwork was until they got into music. Sports tended, for them, to be the constant exercise of who will star this game, while in music a piece is only at its best when EVERY player is doing their best.

Still, DH enjoys watching football on television and we've spent many a lovely weekend tucked into our respective recliners, he napping through some football game, me with the latest stitchery project in hand. I was actually looking forward to doing the same this weekend, especially since I'm still dealing with the tail end of symptoms of The Crap of 2008. Instead, I'm hiding in my office. DH is a great guy, and this year's projects have been learning American Sign Language and working for emancipated foster youth in our community. Right now, my family room is filled with his "gatherlings," young people from either his ASL class or foster youth with whom he works in the community, to watch the Super Bowl.

I'm sorry to be so shallow, but all week long I have to make nice with kids, especially kids with problems. I'm just not up to hangin' with them on my day off.

So, here I am. I should be writing sub plans (have to be out Tuesday and Wednesday for some medical tests) or folding laundry. Or getting ready for a union action meeting on Thursday. I did do some work on a speech I said I would give next month about the Supreme Court (yawn). But I really don't feel up to any of that.

I'm watching 50 first Dates. And eating Dove's chocolate hearts. And cleaning off my bed. I've been sleeping in my recliner for the time of The Crap (everything drains better so I don't cough so much) and the bed got buried under craft supplies. I've got it just about cleared off so I can sleep there tonight. While digging through the stuff I found this stitchery piece. I really like it but can't decide what to do with it. It's supposed to be the medallion in a wall hanging, but the pattern is pretty simplistic. I might like to do something a little more complex around the edges than just two pieces of sashing (as was shown in the model.)

I've just about finished the center sampler for the "What Color is Spring?" quilt. I hope to have a picture to post soon.

Everyone have a good week!

P.S. Missy - If you haven't seen it yet, check out "Yes We Can." Get your tissue, first.


Kathryn said...

I'd rather watch 50 first dates also. It's a fun movie. Both my husband and I have no interest in football, but I have to admit that we watched the last two minutes of the SuperBowl simply because a friend of ours is a HUGE Jets fan. We wanted to know if he was going to get back to his writing or simply sulk again for three months like last year. I guess he's going to write.

Nancy said...

What is your source for Leanne's Butterfly Garden? I have not found it here in the states yet.


n, np

Marita said...

I love the finished stitchery piece it is lovely.

I'm not much of a sports fan and get why you'd rather have some time to yourself after seeing kids all week.